Growing Up Gryffindor
by DARecruit
Summary: A series of one-shots featuring the famous trio throughout the years and what would have happened if they were held accountable for their actions.  WARNING: Spanking of teens.  Don't like, don't read!
1. The Troll

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. **

**This story involves disciplinary spankings of children/teens. If you do not like that sort of thing, please do not continue reading.**

_Author's Note: I recently wrote "Mischief Not Quite Managed" and I thought I would continue with similar stories. So this story will be a compilation of one-shots involving the misdeeds of the Trio throughout the years and what would have happened if they were held responsible for their actions. My plan is to work my way through each book and pick out the scenes I think would have involved the spanking of one or all of our favorite trio. I do want to note that this story is completely separate from my previous 2 stories and what happens in them may not necessarily happen in this series._

_I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. _

_-DARecruit

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**The Troll**

Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell came barreling into the bathroom, wands raised. They were not prepared for what they walked into—a twelve-foot mountain troll knocked out stone cold on the floor, surrounded by three children.

Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger stopped dead in their tracks upon seeing the professors. Quirrell was the only one who didn't look angry—in fact, he looked more scared than anything. Professor Snape was glaring at the trio with the utmost loathing. But it was Professor McGonagall that had them all trembling.

Her mouth was the thinnest Harry had ever seen it, and her eyes seemed to bore into them. He lowered his gaze to the stone floor.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED!" Professor McGonagall yelled. Ron couldn't help but jump. Turning slightly red, he scoffed his shoe along the floor and refused to meet any of the teachers' gazes.

"Pr-Professor, it was m-my fault! Harry and R-Ron were looking f-for me!" Hermione stammered, coming forward.

"Excuse me, Miss Granger?" Professor McGonagall said, rounding on the girl.

"I-I had read about trolls in a b-book, Professor, and I th-thought I could handle this one on my-my own. I went l-looking for it, and if Harry and Ron hadn't showed up, I would have d-died!" Hermione sputtered as fat tears began to make their way down her cheeks.

Harry and Ron didn't dare look at each other, or at any of the teachers, for fear that their astonishment would show on their faces. Was Hermione Granger really lying to their Head of House? The same Hermione Granger that tried to boss them around and always followed the rules?

"I'm extremely disappointed in you, Miss Granger. Five points will be deducted for your behavior. You will come with me to my office in a moment," Professor McGonagall said sternly, and Hermione nodded sadly.

"As for you two," she said, pointing to the two boys and causing them both to flinch slightly. "I award you both five points for managing to survive your foolish encounter! Off to your dormitories, both of you!" They tried catching Hermione's eye, but McGonagall shooed them off, telling them she would take back the points if they didn't hurry.

"Come with me, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said, setting off in a brisk pace. Hermione had to jog to keep up.

Hermione's heart was beating very fast by the time they reached Professor McGonagall's office. She knew she was in deep trouble. She hadn't even really done anything wrong. She hadn't been looking for the troll at all—she didn't even know a troll was in the castle until it had walked into the bathroom! But if she told the truth now, she would get the boys in trouble. And Hermione hoped that if she managed not to get expelled, that maybe Harry and Ron would be her friends.

"Never, in all my years of teaching, has a student done something so foolhardy! I am ashamed of your behavior, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall scolded, pulling a straight-backed chair into the center of the room.

"I'm sorry, Professor! Please don't—don't expel me!" Hermione cried. Hermione really did love Hogwarts. She finally felt that she was where she belonged and she would do anything in order to stay.

"You're not going to be expelled, you silly child!" Professor McGonagall said, her tone softening for a moment as she sat down on the chair. "I'm disappointed with you, naturally, but everyone makes mistakes. That is why I'm going to correct you, to make sure nothing like this ever happens again."

Upon hearing that she was not going to be expelled, Hermione calmed down considerably. Surely there was nothing to be frightened of now, was there? Yes, McGonagall was going to punish her—probably give her a month's worth of detentions—but at least she was going to be able to stay at school. That was the most important thing.

"Come here, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said.

Hermione Granger's eyes went wide. She was so busy worrying that she was going to be expelled that she hadn't really noticed what her professor was doing. But now it was all too clear: Professor McGonagall meant to spank her.

"Please Professor, no," she whimpered, taking a step backwards.

"Do not make me come get you, Miss Granger. If I do, I will use my ruler on you instead of my hand," Professor McGonagall warned.

"No no no," Hermione whined, shaking her head. She didn't want to be spanked!

"I will count to three, Miss Granger. One."

Hermione felt like she was going to get sick. This couldn't be happening. It was all just a bad dream. _Wake up! Wake up, Hermione!_

"Two."

Oh no, oh no! It wasn't a dream.

"Thr—"

"NO! Professor, I-I'm sorry!" Hermione cried, rushing over to Professor McGonagall's side. "Please don't use the ruler!"

"I don't understand why you're making such a fuss over a spanking, Miss Granger. Surely your parents have spanked you before?" Professor McGonagall asked the girl, raising her eyebrow slightly.

Hermione felt her face heating up. "Y-yes Professor, they h-have. But I haven't ever been sp-spanked by a teacher!" she said, burying her face in her hands.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, you are not the first student I've had to spank. And just because I have to spank you does not mean I will treat you any differently. You are a very good student, Hermione, and very gifted. You just happened to make a very bad choice tonight, but I don't expect you to be perfect. I _do_ expect you to think things through a bit more carefully from now on, however," Professor McGonagall said, speaking firmly but gently.

"I'm sorry for d-disappointing you, Professor McGonagall," Hermione said, hanging her head.

"Bend over my lap please, Hermione," Professor McGonagall said in response.

Sighing, Hermione lowered herself over her professor's lap. Her heart was thumping inside her chest, and she took several deep breaths to steady herself. _You can get through this!_ she told herself.

Wanting to get this over with as soon as possible, Professor McGonagall quickly raised the girl's skirt and lowered her pink flowery knickers to her knees. Taking a deep breath, she raised her arm and landed the first swat to the middle of the girl's cheeks.

_Smack!_

"Ow!" Hermione jumped with the first swat. It wasn't necessarily the hardest she'd ever felt, but it wasn't a love pat either. She could feel the sting spreading quickly.

_Smack! Smack!_

"Ouch! Ow!" Hermione yelped, tears spilling from her eyes to make a puddle on the floor.

_Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!_

"Ooooh, ouch! I-I'm sorry!"

Professor McGonagall didn't say anything, but continued her task. She took her time spanking, pausing between each swat to allow the sting to build slowly. Professor McGonagall wasn't planning on giving many spanks, but she wanted to make sure the ones she did give counted.

_Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!_

"Ow! Ow! Owww!"

After delivering a full dozen, Professor McGonagall stopped the punishment. She looked down at the small, squirming bottom over her lap and was satisfied with the slight blush that covered both cheeks. Hermione had already learned her lesson even before she had been taken over her teacher's knees, so Professor McGonagall had just wanted to give her a mild spanking to reinforce it. And it seemed to have done the trick—Hermione Granger was a very contrite little girl.

Professor McGonagall pulled the girl's knickers back up and allowed her to stand. Hermione sniffed and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. Her bottom smarted, but already the sting seemed to be lessening.

Professor McGonagall pulled a handkerchief out of her robes and handed it to the young girl. Hermione took it and dried her eyes, giving her teacher a brief smile. Professor McGonagall returned it.

"You are now completely forgiven, Miss Granger. You made a mistake, you were punished for it, and now it is behind us. I promise what happened in my office tonight will remain between you and I, and I will never bring it up to you again," Professor McGonagall said, accepting the handkerchief back from Hermione.

"Th-thank you, Professor," Hermione said, giving her bottom a quick rub.

"You're welcome, Miss Granger. If you would like to talk about anything, you may. Otherwise, you are free to go back to your dormitory."

"N-no, I'll just go back to the common room, Professor," Hermione said.

"Very well. Take a biscuit, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said, offering her a tin of cookies. Hermione politely took one and then bid her professor goodnight.

* * *

Back in the Gryffindor common room, Harry and Ron waited anxiously for Hermione to appear. They wanted to thank her for not ratting them out.

"She's been gone an awful long time, don't you think? She should have been back by now!" Harry said, turning around to stare at the portrait hole for the fifteenth time in the last two minutes.

"Blimey Harry, you don't think she's been expelled, do you?" Ron asked, nervously petting Scabbers. Scabbers squeaked and tried to get away. Finally, he bit Ron's finger and managed to squirm out of the boy's grasp.

"Ouch! Bloody rat! He's more trouble than he's worth!" Ron said, sucking on his injured index finger.

"Never mind your finger! What about Hermione?" Harry said.

"Well, if she's not back in five minutes, we'll—"

"HERMIONE!" Harry yelled, jumping up from the sofa he and Ron had been sitting on and running over to the girl. "I'm so glad you're back! We were worried you had gotten expelled!"

"They wouldn't expel me, I'm the best student in the year!" Hermione said, and Ron and Harry exchanged a glance. Maybe they shouldn't try being her friend after all, if she was still going to be a bossy know-it-all. But then Hermione smiled and the boys relaxed.

"So what happened? Did McGonagall lay into you?" Ron asked as he and Harry lead Hermione back over to the sofa.

"She…yeah," Hermione said, blushing slightly. She didn't really want to tell Ron and Harry what had just happened, especially since she wasn't sure if they were going to be her friends now or not. What if she told them and then they went and told the whole school?

"What'd she do? She looked like she was going to go mental on you or something!" Ron prodded, pushing Hermione down onto the sofa. Hermione let out a small gasp and winced.

"Ron, leave her alone. Hermione—"

"Wait a minute! I know that face! She hit you, didn't she?" Ron asked, pointing at Hermione accusingly. Hermione turned blood red and couldn't answer.

Ron ran his hand through his hair and let out a huge sigh. "Damn, I'm a bloody prat! I can't believe it! Hermione…I-I'm so sorry! I'm sorry for saying you're a nightmare. You really aren't! You're actually—er—very nice. And I'm sorry you got smacked even though it was really all my fault you were in that stupid bathroom at all! I'm gonna go to McGonagall and tell her—"

"NO!" Hermione yelled, causing both the boys to jump.

"What? Why not?" Ron asked incredulously.

"There's no point! It's already done and over with. And it's really not that bad—the sting will go away soon! If you go tell McGonagall now, I may get in trouble for lying!" Hermione said.

"Maybe Hermione's right, Ron. No sense getting her into more trouble. I expect you owe her now though, mate," Harry said.

"What—oh yeah! Definitely! Hermione, if there's anything you want me to do to make it up to you, just tell me! And I promise I'll never be mean to you again!" Ron declared.

Hermione couldn't help but smiling. Finally, it looked like she had friends. And from that moment on, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were inseparable.


	2. Midnight Mischief

**As always, Harry Potter and all of its wonderful characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing.**

**Story contains disciplinary spankings. **

_Author's Note: Hello readers! Sorry it took me a little longer to get this story up! I've been working on it for ages! It's a little long, but Harry, Hermione, and McGonagall are my three all-time favorite characters! I wanted to do them justice. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Reviews are welcome! I love hearing what you all think! =)

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**Midnight Mischief**

Harry and Hermione watched the silhouettes of Charlie Weasley's friends and Norbert become smaller and smaller until they were mere specks in the sky. With a sigh of relief, the two young Gryffindors made their way back down the spiral staircase, eager to get back to Gryffindor Tower and into their comfy beds.

"I still can't believe Malfoy got detention!" Hermione whispered, beaming. "I wish I could have seen his face when he got caught!"

"Oh no! Hermione, the cloak! We left it in the astronomy tower!" Harry whirled around, planning on running back for it, but stopped dead in his tracks. Argus Filch had appeared out of nowhere, and he was staring down at Harry and Hermione with an expression of utmost glee.

"Out for a midnight stroll, are we?" he said, baring his teeth in a sinister smile. "Come with me."

Hearts pounding, Harry and Hermione followed Mr. Filch in complete silence, not even daring to look at each other.

"I keep telling Dumbledore he's wrong to have let the old punishments die. Hang you by your toes from the ceiling, that would teach you! Oh, and what I wouldn't give to beat you all senseless with a cane! You'd think twice before sneaking out then, wouldn't you?" Mr. Filch rambled on, talking more to himself than Harry and Hermione.

He led them to Professor McGonagall's office, but she wasn't inside. "Don't move," Mr. Filch said, practically skipping back down the corridor in search for Professor McGonagall.

"We're done for, Harry," Hermione whispered, slumping against the cold stone wall.

Harry remained silent. How could he have forgotten the cloak? They wouldn't be in this mess right now if he had just remembered! _What am I going to tell McGonagall? It doesn't really matter—she won't like anything I come up with anyway!_

Hermione was close to tears. She couldn't help but think back to the night with the troll. Surely, McGonagall was going to deal with them in much the same way.

Too soon, Professor McGonagall came storming down the corridor towards Harry and Hermione, and she wasn't alone. Neville Longbottom walked shamefacedly besides her.

"Harry! Hermione! Malfoy said you had a dragon!" Neville sputtered as soon as he saw his classmates.

"That is the second time tonight I've heard mention of a dragon! What is going on?" Professor McGonagall asked angrily. "And what, may I ask, were the two of you doing at the top of the astronomy tower at _one in the morning_?"

Harry opened his mouth several times, but he seemed to have forgotten how to form words. He looked over at Hermione, hoping that she would come up with a good explanation, but to his dismay, she was staring down at her slippers. Knowing Hermione was too overcome with guilt to speak, Harry quickly racked his brain for something to say.

"Never mind! I think I can piece it together! You two thought you'd have a good laugh by telling Draco Malfoy that there was a dragon so you could lure him out of bed, and Mr. Longbottom somehow heard and believed it too. I suppose you're both pleased with yourselves?" Professor McGonagall said, staring daggers at Harry and Hermione.

Hermione whimpered and began to cry in earnest. Harry's heart was hammering, and he felt immensely guilty when he saw the look on Neville's face. "No! No, Neville, it's not true! Professor, please—"

"Enough Potter! You all will receive detention for being out of bounds and out of bed, and I'm taking fifty points from Gryffindor!" Professor McGonagall said.

"_Fifty_? Professor, please!" Harry protested.

"Fifty _each_! Now, Longbottom, I want you to go straight to your dormitory! Merlin help you if you disobey. Potter, Granger, get into my office!" Neville tripped several times in his haste to obey before finally running off towards Gryffindor Tower. Shaking her head, Professor McGonagall ushered Harry and Hermione into her office.

Professor McGonagall's office was spacious and warmly lit. A large crimson carpet took up much of the floor space while the walls were lined with books. A handsome mahogany desk sat slightly angled in the far left corner of the room, and a roaring fire blazed in the ornate fireplace to the right. On any other night, Harry would have thought the room to be quite inviting; tonight however, he found it disconcerting.

"Sit!" Professor McGonagall ordered, taking her seat behind the desk. Harry and Hermione fell into the two chairs facing her.

"Never have I been so disappointed in the two of you! Your classmates look up to you both, and I expected more from you! And I would still like to know what you were doing in the astronomy tower in the middle of the night!" she scolded.

Hermione continued to cry and refused to look up at her professor. Harry bit the inside of his cheek, not knowing what to say. Professor McGonagall glared at the both of them, hoping to scare one of them into a confession. She waited another two minutes, but both children remained mute and gave every indication of staying that way. Sighing, Professor McGonagall stood up. Both children looked up at her apprehensively.

"Very well, I will take your silence as an admission of guilt. Am I wrong in assuming that?" The children glanced at each other before both sets of eyes met hers again.

"No, Professor," they both mumbled. Hermione sniffed and returned to staring at her hands. Harry eyed his professor with apprehension. He couldn't help but feel that at any minute, McGonagall would start walloping the both of them. He didn't want to be caught off guard when it happened.

"Off to bed then, the both of you," said Professor McGonagall.

Expecting to be told they were in for a spanking, Hermione jerked her head back up and stared at Professor McGonagall incredulously. "Professor, aren't—aren't you going to sp—I mean…punish us?"

"I am, Miss Granger. You and Mr. Potter have a sound spanking coming to you, but not tonight. I'm tired and far too angry with you both at the moment to spank you now. However, you will come to my office before breakfast in the morning and we will deal with it then," Professor McGonagall said, and both children paled.

"But Professor—"

"This is not up for discussion, Mr. Potter. I suggest you and Miss Granger get off to bed before I decide to add to your punishment," Professor McGonagall said sternly, leaving no room for nonsense.

Not wanting to anger their professor any more, Harry and Hermione quickly stood and made their way to the door. "Goodnight, Professor," they mumbled in unison before scrambling out into the corridor. They hurried off towards Gryffindor Tower without so much as a backward glance; they did not want to see any more of their professor's disapproving looks tonight.

"Don't you think it's a bit cruel to tell us we have a smacking coming our way and then just sending us to bed?" Harry asked as he and Hermione clambered through the portrait hole.

"Well, she didn't want to hit us in anger…"

"Still, I'd rather have just gotten it over with. Now we have the rest of the night to worry about it!" Harry argued.

"Yes…I know. I think McGonagall might have done that slightly on purpose," Hermione said, brushing a few tears from her cheeks.

"_Slightly on purpose_?"

"Well, she knows that we're going to be thinking all night about being…spanked. She meant this to be part of the punishment, you see," Hermione said, blushing slightly.

"That's just—just…_wrong_! I would never have thought McGonagall to be so cruel. Snape maybe, but—" Harry sputtered angrily.

"I know, Harry, I know! But there's nothing we can do about it! McGonagall won't change her mind. We'll just have to suffer tonight."

"But—"

"Harry, _please_. I don't like this anymore than you do! Please don't make it more difficult!" Hermione said exasperatedly, fresh tears brimming.

Feeling guilty for making Hermione cry again, Harry quickly dropped the matter. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he said, giving her a brief hug.

Hermione sighed. She was thankful for the embrace. "Maybe we should try to sleep. Besides, McGonagall may come to check that we're in bed. We don't want to give her more reason to be cross with us," Hermione said. Harry nodded.

"Goodnight, Hermione," Harry said, departing for the boys' dormitory.

"Goodnight," Hermione replied as she headed for the girls'.

* * *

Harry tossed and turned all night. How could he sleep, knowing that in a few hours his professor would be tanning his backside? He also wasn't sure what to expect. Harry had only been smacked once before by his uncle. He was about six when it happened, but he couldn't even remember why his uncle had taken his belt to him. He just remembered that after his uncle was finished, his aunt had taken care of him. It was the only time she ever seemed to remotely care for Harry. But after that day, any time Uncle Vernon planned on whipping Harry, Aunt Petunia would intervene and Harry would get locked away in his cupboard for a week instead.

"Harry? Harry, are you up?" a timid voice came from the door.

"Hermione?" Harry replied, reaching for his glasses. A mass of bushy brown hair came flying towards him and he felt his mattress sink slightly. Hermione's worried face came into focus as Harry pushed his glasses up his nose and sat up. "What time is it?"

"Barely six. I couldn't sleep!" Hermione whispered.

"Neither could I. I'm gonna get up and get dressed. I'll meet you in the common room in a minute," Harry said, throwing his blankets off himself and swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. Hermione dashed out of the dormitory.

Five minutes later, Harry sat down in the squishy armchair next to Hermione in front of the fireplace. "Do you think it's too early to go see McGonagall?" asked Harry.

"Probably."

* * *

By six-thirty, Harry and Hermione had given up and were making their way to Professor McGonagall's office. They weren't entirely sure if they were allowed to be out in the corridors this early in the morning, given that it was a Sunday. Luckily, the corridors were deserted and they didn't run into anyone, not even Peeves. The two young Gryffindors found themselves standing outside their professor's door much too soon for their liking; Harry raised his fist to knock and hesitated.

"Oh go on, Harry! Let's just get it over with!" Hermione prodded, bouncing on the balls of her feet nervously. Harry took a deep breath and knocked three times.

No answer. Harry waited a minute or so before knocking once more. Turning to Hermione, he shrugged. "What should we do?"

"Oh come on, you've got to be kidding me!" Hermione complained loudly, looking skyward.

"Miss Granger! Kindly keep your voice down!" scolded Professor McGonagall as she came up behind them.

"Professor! I-I'm—"

"Into my office, Miss Granger. Mr. Potter, wait here," Professor McGonagall said, steering Hermione into the room before her.

Hermione shuffled inside gloomily, her heart trying to beat right out of her chest. The chair Professor McGonagall had pulled out last time was already in the center of the room; Hermione watched Professor McGonagall take a seat and beckon for her. Obediently, Hermione made her way to Professor McGonagall's side.

"You know the procedure, Miss Granger," said Professor McGonagall. Nodding sadly, Hermione bent over her professor's lap.

Professor McGonagall lifted the girl's tweed skirt and folded it over her back before lowering her yellow knickers. She then immediately began the spanking.

_Smack! Smack! Smack!_

Hermione winced and began to wiggle after the first swat. Professor McGonagall was hitting much harder than she had the last time.

_Smack! Smack!_

"Ouch! Ow!" Hermione yelped. She could already feel the tears welling up.

Professor McGonagall continued to spank in silence, methodically covering Hermione's entire bottom. The girl was crying steadily by the twelfth swat, but Professor McGonagall kept up her pace. She meant to make a lasting impression on the child.

_Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!_

"Owww! Pr-professor, _please_! Ouch! I-I'm so sor—OUCH—ry! Please, no more! OW!" Hermione bawled, kicking her legs. Her bottom felt like it was on fire, and she was sure she would never be able to sit comfortably again.

_Smack! Smack!_

"Ow! No, not there!" cried Hermione as her professor spanked her sit-spots.

_Smack! Smack! _

"Nooooo!" Hermione couldn't help herself; she reached a hand back to try to protect her poor bum. Professor McGonagall easily caught the girl's hand and pinned it behind her back, lifting her right leg slightly. Hermione fought against her professor's restraint and whimpered as she felt herself being tipped forward.

Reaching her right hand into the inside of her robes, Professor McGonagall pulled out her wand and gave it a flick. A thin wooden ruler materialized in front of her; Professor McGonagall stowed her wand and grabbed hold of the ruler.

Hermione was still wiggling futilely over her professor's lap. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw McGonagall reach up and grab a ruler out of thin air. After a moment's shock, she renewed her efforts. "No no no, Professor! Please, not that! I'm sorry! I'm _sorry_!"

"I'm sorry, Miss Granger, but I must impress upon you the seriousness of your actions! There is a _reason_ we don't allow students to wander around the castle at all hours of the night! It is extremely dangerous! As much as you're hurting right now, it is nothing to the pain your friends, family, _and_ myself would be in if anything happened to you!" Professor McGonagall scolded.

She lifted the ruler and landed the last four swats all to Hermione's sit-spots. Hermione shrieked after each one and finally sagged over Professor McGonagall's lap, exhausted.

"I-I-I'm so soooorry!" Hermione blubbered, tears and snot running down her face. She yelped as her professor replaced her knickers, the fabric rubbing against her angry skin.

Professor McGonagall adjusted Hermione's skirt and placed her on her feet. As soon as she could, Hermione had both hands vigorously rubbing her backside as she jumped from foot to foot, doing everything to alleviate the pain. She was crying and hiccupping and knew she must look a mess, but she didn't care! Right now her only concern was her poor bum!

It took all of Professor McGonagall's self control not to laugh at the sight of Hermione Granger doing what the teachers of Hogwarts had come to call the "Dance of the Well-Spanked Child". She allowed Hermione to continue for about a minute before she put on a stern face and cleared her throat. Hermione's face turned a shade of pink that would match her backside and became quite still.

"I do hope you've learned your lesson, Miss Granger. I would hate to have to repeat it," Professor McGonagall said sternly.

"No—I mean yes, Professor! I-I've learned my lesson! I _am_ sorry for what I did. And I won't do it again!" Hermione said, her voice catching as she tried to stifle a sob.

"There, there, Miss Granger, it's all over. You're forgiven. Here, have a biscuit," Professor McGonagall said, holding out her tin of cookies. She wasn't very good at comforting children, but she found that handing out cookies helped tremendously.

After the girl had taken a cookie, Professor McGonagall guided her to the door and opened it. Hermione walked out, immensely happy to leave.

* * *

Harry jumped as soon as he heard the click of the door. He noticed that Hermione's face was tear streaked and she winced every few steps. "Hermione! Are…are you all right?" he asked nervously.

"I'm fine, Harry. Sore, but fine. She has a nasty ruler!" Hermione said sadly, rubbing her bottom.

"Mr. Potter," called Professor McGonagall from the doorway. Harry gulped and looked at Hermione anxiously. Hermione returned a sympathetic smile.

"Good luck, Harry. I'll wait here for you," she said. Taking a deep breath, Harry nodded and walked the few feet to the door. Glancing back at Hermione once more, he entered the office and shut the door.

Professor McGonagall had already returned to her seat and was waiting expectantly. "Come here please, Mr. Potter," she said.

Harry felt as if someone had performed the jelly-legs jinx on him and his heart was thumping a fast tempo inside his chest.

"Unbutton your trousers and lie across my lap," Professor McGonagall said. Harry could hear his heart thudding in his ears now. He fumbled with the button and zipper of his trousers for what felt like ages. But finally he managed to get them undone and quickly got into position.

Professor McGonagall then took Harry's trousers and pants down in one smooth motion. Harry gasped as he felt the cool air rush around his now unprotected bottom.

_Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!_

Harry managed to grit his teeth and only grunt with the first few swats, but he was crying out by the fourth and fifth.

_Smack! Smack! Smack!_

"Ah! Ouch! Ow!"

Harry began to cry after a dozen swats. He wiggled and kicked his legs, trying his best to escape. Professor McGonagall wrapped her left arm around the boy's waist a little more tightly and landed several especially hard swats to his sit-spots.

"OW! OW! OUCH!" cried Harry. "I'm—OW!—sorry!"

"I'd better never catch you roaming the school in the middle of the night again, Mr. Potter! I will make this spanking seem like a few light pats in comparison!" Professor McGonagall scolded.

_Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!_

"No, nooooo! Ouch! You-you won't P-Professor! Ow! I-I promise—Ow!—I promise!"

Professor McGonagall paused after delivering twenty swats. Harry's bottom was a bright pink by now, and he was sobbing pitifully over her lap. "I will hold you to that promise, Mr. Potter. Rest assured, if you break your promise or anything else foolhardy to endanger yourself, you will find yourself over my lap for another sound spanking. Do I make myself clear?"

"Y-yes, Professor!" Harry sobbed.

"If anything ever happened to you, many people would be devastated—and no, not because you survived He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You have many people in this school that care very much about you, Harry. Remember that," said Professor McGonagall. Harry began to cry even harder after that.

Professor McGonagall took a deep, calming breath and reached inside her robes for the ruler she had used on Hermione. "You have four more now, Mr. Potter. Are you ready?"

Harry tried to speak but found it was too hard with his racking sobs, so he simply nodded. He wanted to get this spanking over with as soon as possible.

Professor McGonagall raised her right leg for better access to the boy's tender area where bottom meets thigh and smacked the ruler down firmly.

"OW!"

_Smack! Smack! Smack!_

"AHHHHHHH!" Harry yelled, balling his fists tightly against the pain. He yelled again when his pants and trousers were pulled back up. He was sure the fabric had just ripped off some of his searing skin.

Professor McGonagall vanished the ruler, no longer having a need for it, and set Harry on his feet. The boy clutched his bottom and stomped his feet. His eyes were screwed shut and he was biting his lip.

Professor McGonagall was surprised at how quickly Harry composed himself. After a minute or so, he was still crying, but otherwise appeared quite calm.

"I-I'm sorry, Professor," he said, hanging his head.

"You're forgiven, Mr. Potter. It's over and behind us now," Professor McGonagall said, picking up her tin of cookies. "Have a biscuit."

A minute later, Harry walked stiffly out of Professor McGonagall's office. Hermione was waiting anxiously. It had felt like ages since Harry had gone in! "Alright, Harry?" she asked.

"Fine. You were right—that ruler _is_ nasty!" Harry said, smiling in spite of himself. Hermione giggled.

"Would you like to go get some breakfast now? I'm hungry after all of that!" Hermione said, starting off towards the Great Hall.

"Think we can eat standing?" Harry replied, falling in step besides his friend.

Professor McGonagall listened quietly just out of sight of the two young Gryffindors, smiling to herself. She poked her head out of her door and watched as the children made their way to breakfast. She had a feeling that the two of them and their third partner-in-crime would keep her hands full for the next six years. She had never seen a trio quite like them—The Boy Who Lived, the smartest witch of her age, and the youngest brother of the two biggest pranksters in the school. _Yes_, Professor McGonagall thought, _they are going to cause quite a stir!_

_

* * *

_

_Author's Note: Just a head's up, my next story will start in Year 2 with the Weasley's rescuing Harry in the flying car. I didn't find anything else in SS that I thought was relevant to my stories. I'm sticking as close to canon as I can, and only writing my versions where I think they would have happened. _


	3. Rescuing Harry

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters.**

**This story involves disciplinary spankings of children/teens. If you do not like that sort of thing, please do not continue reading.**

_Author's Note: I apologize for the long time between chapters. I had an intense semester and just didn't have any time to write! But I finally finished the chapter. Hopefully I can get the next one written in the next few weeks! I really hope you enjoy this. I know it's been a long time coming. _

_DARecruit_

* * *

**Rescuing Harry**

Molly Weasley couldn't remember the last time she had been so angry. Her day started off normally enough. She got up just after dawn and went to feed the chickens and collect the eggs. After that, Mrs. Weasley went about the house, flicking her wand to do a bit of tidying up. Once she made sure the scrub brushes were behaving and wouldn't start fighting each other over the dishes, Mrs. Weasley went to check on her sleeping children. Both Percy and Ginny were slumbering peacefully in their beds, but neither the twins nor Ron were in theirs'.

Mrs. Weasley searched the rest of the house in a panic, and finally went to the sitting room and looked at the clock. This particular clock was not like other clocks. Instead of showing the time, it had a hand for each member of the Weasley family, and where the numbers should have been, there were things such as "home", "work", "school", and even "mortal peril". Fred, George, and Ron's hands were all pointing to "travelling".

* * *

"Right," Fred said as parked the car in the garage, "We'll just go inside and quietly wait in our rooms until Mum calls us for breakfast. Then you can come down with Harry, Ron, and act surprised! Mum will be so happy to see him, she won't even ask how he got here!"

The four boys made their way out of the garage and were starting for the house when a very angry Mrs. Weasley burst from the house and marched over to them.

"Explain yourselves," she growled. All three of Mrs. Weasley's sons began speaking quite fast, drowning each other out in their hurry to answer their mother.

"Do you have any idea how very worried I've been? I wake up to find beds empty, no note, car gone! I have never been so disappointed in any of you! Just wait until your father gets home! We will be having a talk, mark my words!" Mrs. Weasley scolded, her voice raising several octaves.

"But Mum, they—we—Harry—" Ron stammered. Mrs. Weasley fixed him with a steely gaze and he immediately fell silent.

"There is no excuse for what you did, Ronald Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley scolded, turning her attention now to the small black haired boy.

"I-I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said quickly, not wanting to be shouted at by the angry looking woman.

"Oh don't be silly, Harry dear. _You_ didn't ask them to fly that silly car halfway across the country! And I _am_ happy to see you, dear! Mr. Weasley and I were just saying last night that we would come and collect you ourselves if you hadn't written back to Ron by the end of this week!"

Mrs. Weasley gave Harry a warm smile, and Harry immediately felt much better. He looked over at his mate and noticed that Ron didn't share his feelings.

"All right, everyone in the house! I'll make breakfast," Mrs. Weasley said before leading the way into the large, crooked house.

"Go on in, Harry dear, make yourself at home," Mrs. Weasley said kindly, moving aside to let the small boy go in front of her. As soon as he was safely in the house, she rounded on her three. "Don't think that just because Harry is here the consequences for rule breaking will be any different. Understood?"

"Yes, Mum," her sons mumbled, all looking down at their trainers.

Molly Weasley nodded solemnly as she grabbed Ronald's arm. Turning him, she landed five hard swats to his bottom. Ron cried out in surprise and pain, reaching back to rub as soon as his mother let him go. Mrs. Weasley did the same to Fred and then George before ushering all three wincing boys into the house.

"Sit down, all of you, breakfast will be ready in a minute!" Mrs. Weasley said, bustling over to the stove. She began frying up eggs and sausage while the four boys settled themselves at the large wooden table.

* * *

They were halfway through breakfast when a balding red haired man walked through the back door. "Morning all!" he said happily as he took his seat at the head of the table.

"Dad!" the Weasley boys all cried, smiling at their father.

"Arthur! You wouldn't believe what your sons have been up to!" Mrs. Weasley said sternly as she brought her husband a mug of steaming coffee.

"Oh, I can imagine! What'd you do this time, boys? Charm the chickens to dance again? Bother the ghoul? Or—"

"Wouldn't you like to know how Harry got here, Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley asked icily.

"Harry, Harry who?" said Mr. Weasley, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Harry Potter, of course!"

"Merlin's beard, _Harry Potter_!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed, noticing Harry for the first time. He extended his hand and Harry immediately shook it, saying "Nice to meet you, Mr. Weasley."

"Harry arrived here just this morning, Arthur. Your sons went to fetch him in a _flying car_!" said Mrs. Weasley, her eyes flashing. Mr. Weasley sputtered and sent coffee and spittle across the table.

"F-flying car, Molly?"

"You told me you only wanted that silly tin can to take apart and see how it worked! But what you were actually doing was bewitching it to fly!" Mrs. Weasley accused.

"I never intended to _actually_ fly it, Molly dear…But speaking of that, how did it go?" Mr. Weasley said, turning excitedly to his three sons.

"_Arthur Weasley_! You're just as bad as the boys! Perhaps I should take my hairbrush to _you_ instead of the children! This is not something to be taken lightly! They could have been seen! They could have _died_!" yelled Mrs. Weasley, wagging her finger menacingly at her husband who looked every bit as frightened as her three sons at this moment.

"Maybe we should just…go to our rooms," Fred whispered to his twin, Ron, and Harry, looking nervously at his angry mother. Mrs. Weasley seemed to come to her senses and realized Harry was with them. Her face relaxed noticeably as she turned towards him.

"Harry dear, why don't you go up to Ron's room and lie down? You must be exhausted," she said kindly.

"Oh, er…Yes, Mrs. Weasley," Harry sputtered, his chair scrapping the floor as he stood.

"Ron will show you, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling. "Meet us in the study when you're finished, Ronald," she added to her son.

"Are…are you going to be in very much trouble?" Harry asked as he followed Ron up the zigzagging, rickety steps.

"Fred and George have gotten into loads more trouble before and they're still alive. My room's just up at the top of the next flight of stairs. I better get back downstairs before Mum comes looking for me," Ron said.

"Good luck, mate," Harry said as he made his way into his friend's room.

* * *

"I'll leave the rest up to you, Arthur. I'm very disappointed, boys!" Mrs. Weasley said after she finished her lengthy scolding to her children. Fred, George, and Ron sat next to each other on the sofa in the study, squirming and looking increasingly guiltier with each passing minute. With one last disapproving glance at her three youngest, Mrs. Weasley strode over to the door and closed it with a sharp click behind her.

Mr. Weasley had remained silent throughout most of Mrs. Weasley's lecture, nodding and making a few agreeable remarks when he thought they were called for. It wasn't that he didn't think his boys had done wrong, but Mr. Weasley was not one to belabor the point. He had wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible and move on, but his wife had a tendency to draw things out.

"I think your mother spoke enough for the both of us," Mr. Weasley said, clearing his throat. He really did hate this particular part of being a father, but it had to be done. He could feel his sons' eyes on him as he pulled the desk chair out. "Let's finish this up then, shall we? Ron first, I think."

Ron could feel his heart thumping inside his chest as he watched his father hitch his trousers up before taking a seat. "To me, Ron," Mr. Weasley said when his youngest boy hadn't moved. Ron gulped and lurched to his feet, making his way unsteadily to his father.

"Trousers and pants down and over my lap, Ron," said Mr. Weasley. Ron paled and looked back at his twin brothers. Mr. Weasley noticed his son's hesitation and he felt for the boy, but Ron and the twins had gotten in trouble together and they would be punished together. Grabbing Ron's wrist, Mr. Weasley pulled his son closer to him and started undoing the boy's trousers.

"N-no, Dad. I-I'll do it," Ron stammered just as his father began to tug at his zipper. Mr. Weasley took his hand away and allowed his son to finish unzipping his pants by himself. Blushing furiously, Ron pushed his trousers and pants down to his knees and flung himself over Mr. Weasley's lap.

Mr. Weasley wasted no time and quickly landed four hard swats to the tiny bottom over his lap. Ron gasped and squirmed as soon as the first blow landed. His father had an iron hand that made his cheeks burn like nothing else could. Mr. Weasley didn't scold but let his hand do all the "talking".

"Ow! Ow! Ouch! Ah!" Ron cried out, bucking over his father's lap. Mr. Weasley wrapped his free arm around his waist and held him still as he continued his assault on the wiggling bum. He watched as the creamy white skin turned a dusty pink and quickly darkened into a rosy red under his ministrations.

Lifting his right leg, Mr. Weasley turned his attention to the tender under curve where bottom meets thigh, wanting to make certain Ron would remember this lesson every time he sat down for the rest of the day.

"Ahhh! Ouch! Dad, ouch, Daddy! No no, stop please! I'll be g-good, I-I _swear_! I won't do it a-again!" Ron cried, kicking his legs in a desperate attempt to alleviate the scorching pain in his bum.

"I sincerely hope you won't, Ronald. I would hate to have to repeat this lesson!" said Mr. Weasley as he landed a final half dozen swats to Ron's sit-spots. Ron went limp over his father's lap and cried his heart out.

Mr. Weasley very carefully tugged Ron's pants up and over the sore flesh before rubbing the boy's back to calm him. Several minutes later, he helped the boy stand and held him steady as Ron pulled his jeans back into place, hissing as they made contact with his bum.

Mr. Weasley then pulled his son in for a hug, running a hand through the thick ginger hair. He planted a kiss to the top of Ron's head before looking at his twin sons still sitting on the sofa a few feet away. Fred looked pale and nervous, and George's eyes were already brimming with tears.

"George, you next," said Mr. Weasley, resuming his seat. Ron gave his brother a sympathetic look before going to stand off by the side, out the way. George shuffled over to Mr. Weasley and quickly bared and placed himself over his father's knees.

Mr. Weasley rubbed George's back gently for a moment before wrapping his left arm around the boy's waist to hold him still. Taking a deep breath, Mr. Weasley raised his right arm high and swung it down to land in the center of George's bottom with a sharp _slap_!

George grunted and bit his lip. One tear made its way down his cheek. Mr. Weasley landed five more swats in close succession.

"Ouch!" George yelped, unable to help himself. He wiggled, trying to keep his father's hand from his target, but Mr. Weasley found his mark every time.

"Ah! Ah! Ouch!" cried George.

Mr. Weasley didn't keep track of how many times he spanked, but continued until he felt the lesson had sunk in. When he delivered the last swat, George's bottom was glowing. Mr. Weasley righted George's pants and let him calm down over his lap, rubbing small circles on the boy's back.

Fred watched as first his younger brother and then his twin were placed over their father's knee and spanked until their bottoms glowed fiery red. He winced and squirmed each time his father's hand landed, and could feel his own bottom tingling in anticipation of his own punishment. His stomach was tied up in knots, and he felt it drop to his feet when his father called for him.

Mr. Weasley rubbed his hand on the side of his trouser leg in an attempt to relieve some of the sting he was feeling. He had considered using a hairbrush, but had dismissed the thought a moment later. He never liked having to spank his children, and hardly ever used anything but his hand. He could handle a little sting.

Fred undid his trousers, hooked a finger in the waistband and pulled trousers and pants down in one swift movement. He then bent over Mr. Weasley's knees.

Mr. Weasley wrapped his arm around Fred's waist and began doling out crisp swats immediately. Fred gasped and winced, wiggling at the onslaught of stinging slaps.

"Ouch! No, Dad! Not there!" Fred cried, his bottom burning furiously. He had no time to catch his breath, and began crying in earnest a dozen and some spanks later.

Fred's bottom was a bright pink now. Mr. Weasley continued spanking, pausing after every half dozen or so to let the sting build a bit before continuing.

"If I ever find out you've flown that car again, I will paddle your bottom with your mother's hairbrush, is that understood? That goes for all of you!" scolded Mr. Weasley as he finished up Fred's spanking.

"Ow! Y-yes, Dad! Ouch! Ow! I won't, ouch!" cried Fred.

"Yes, Dad," George and Ron replied, rubbing their bums in earnest.

Mr. Weasley returned Fred's pants and rubbed his back as the boy sobbed his heart out. Several moments later, Mr. Weasley helped the boy stand. Fred righted his trousers before falling into his father's arms. "I'm sorry, Dad," Fred said, his voice thick from crying.

"Me too, Dad," George said, and Ron nodded enthusiastically beside him. Mr. Weasley reached out an arm and his two other sons quickly joined the hug.

"All's forgiven, boys. You have a clean slate," said Mr. Weasley. He gave each of his sons a quick peck on the head before sending them on their way. Mr. Weasley smiled to himself as he watched them leave. Even in the most challenging of times, being a father was the most rewarding job in the entire world, and Arthur Weasley wouldn't trade it for anything.


	4. Grand Entrance

Finally, an update! I know, I know, I'm so sorry! I just don't have time to write. I've been working on this for ages, finding a bit of time here and there. And I'm in the works of a new story. Hoping to have a few chapters of that posted by June at the latest. And more chapters of this series, of course! I really hope you enjoy this!

Love from DARecruit!

* * *

"Grand Entrance"

Severus Snape watched from the steps of the castle as a sputtering Ford Anglia plummeted hundreds of feet in the air and crashed into a large, gnarled tree. The car hit with a thunderous crunch and skidded to the ground. The next few moments went by in a blur. Branches began mercilessly pummeling the car; the sound of wood hitting metal was ear shattering. Professor Snape reached inside his robes and grabbed his wand, about to cast a spell on the car to save Potter and Weasley when the Ford Anglia suddenly roared to life and careened to safety. Snape watched as engine sputtering, it ejected the two young boys, their trunks, and Potter's owl before speeding off into the forest.

"Come back you bloody car!" Ron yelled, his fist in the air. "Dad's gonna kill me!"

"Come on," Harry said as he grabbed Hedwig's cage and his trunk, "We'd better get up to the castle."

The boys hauled their trunks through the thick grass towards the great oak front doors and stopped at the foot of the steps. "So nice of you boys to drop in. Train too common for you, Potter? You are just like your father," Professor Snape said icily, relishing the terrified looks on the boys' faces.

"Professor, w-we couldn't get onto the—"

"Save it for the Headmaster, Potter. Now, follow me," Snape sneered, his black robes billowing behind him as he walked briskly up the front steps and into the entrance hall. Harry and Ron followed like two prisoners going to their execution. They followed Snape into the dungeons, their hearts beating fast tempos in their chests. Harry was certain he and Ron were going to be expelled and he was going to find himself standing on the step of Number Four Privet Drive before the night was over.

Snape led them to his office and ushered them inside. It was dark and cold inside, and Harry trembled. Vials of potion ingredients filled large shelves against the walls, and a fireplace sat eerie and cold on the right side of the room; a huge menacing desk took up a considerable amount of the remaining space. Harry looked to his left; Ron was ghostly white and looked like he was about to be sick.

"You were _spotted_!" Snape said in his chilling voice, holding out a copy of the _Evening_ _Prophet_ and causing both boys to jump. "I do hope that you enjoyed your little joy ride today boys. You have caused quite a mess that will take the Ministry days to clean up! Seven Muggles are now getting their memories erased! You could have exposed us all today!" Harry's mouth was dry and his heart felt like it was in his throat. Ron was tearing up; his parents were going to kill him.

"You will remain here while I fetch Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore. Touch nothing!" Snape said, gliding from the room. He returned moments later with a very irate looking Professor McGonagall.

"Explain yourselves!" she demanded. Her lips pursed, she listened quietly as Ron told the story. After he finished, she gave the boys a piercing look before asking why they hadn't just sent an owl to the school. Harry paled and felt his stomach lurch. Why hadn't he thought of that? He could have sent Hedwig!

"Pr-professor we-we didn't think—" Harry stammered.

"_Obviously_, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said, her eyes icy.

"Professor, please, we're s-sorry," Harry said, his voice cracking.

"Oh you're _sorry_ Potter? You think that is going to make everything better? Famous Mr. Potter—"

"That is enough, Severus," said a voice from the door. Harry turned in time to see a wizened Professor Dumbledore enter, followed closely behind by an angry looking Mr. Weasley. Harry heard Ron gulp beside him.

"Professor Dumbledore, I—" Harry started, but was cut off immediately.

"I already know everything that has happened this evening, Harry. I am very disappointed in the both of you," Professor Dumbledore said quietly. Harry felt guiltier now than he had when Snape was yelling at them. He hated knowing that he had disappointed the man who he greatly admired and respected.

"A-are you going to expel us, sir?" Ron asked in a tiny voice, a few tears spilling down his face.

"Not tonight, Mr. Weasley. But if either of you do something like this again, I will have no choice in the matter. Now Mr. Weasley, since your father is here, I will not be writing home to your family. The same cannot be said for you, Mr. Potter. I have to return to the feast; I will leave these boys for you to deal with, Minerva," Professor Dumbledore said, turning to leave.

"Weasley, you will go with your father. I'm sure he wants to have a little chat with you," Professor McGonagall said, and Ron looked like he had been given a death sentence. "Arthur, you may use my office for privacy. I trust you remember where it is?"

"Thank you, Minerva. Come, Ronald," Mr. Weasley said sternly, ushering his son from the room.

Harry's heart sped up. He glanced anxiously at his Head of House. "I must also return to the feast, so I do not have time to deal with you right now, Potter. You will come to my office—"

"Professor McGonagall, I would be happy to deal with the boy myself now, if you would prefer," Professor Snape said in his normal chilling, drawn out tone.

Professor McGonagall took a moment to consider the offer. Potter and Weasley had done something extremely dangerous and foolhardy, and Weasley was being dealt with by his father. Perhaps having a strong male figure deal with Potter would have a good effect on the boy. Severus was definitely a strong man…but he did not hide his dislike for James Potter's young son well. Would he be too harsh? He is a Professor on the other hand, and Minerva was quite certain he would not abuse his authority.

"Alright Severus, I will let you handle Mr. Potter for me," Professor McGonagall said. Harry gave her a pleading look, but she stood firm. "Don't look at me like that, Potter. What you did tonight was dangerous and you deserve to be punished. Professor Snape will deal with you no different than I would," she said, turning towards the door. Right before she left, she leveled the younger professor with a stern glare. Then with a nod, she left and shut the door behind her.

* * *

"What did I tell you before Ronald, about what would happen if I ever found out you took the car again?" Mr. Weasley asked as he led his son into Professor McGonagall's office. Mr. Weasley lit a fire with a flick of his wand and moved a straight-backed chair out for himself with another flick. He seated himself and looked at his youngest son. "Well?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Y-you said you'd p-paddle us with mum's hairbrush," Ron cried.

"Darn right! I thought I had solved the problem with the first spanking I had to give you, but clearly I was wrong. I won't make the same mistake this time, I promise you," Mr. Weasley said sternly, pulling Ron to his side.

"P-please dad, don't! We-we didn't think! We couldn't get through the p-p-platform!" Ron sobbed.

"You should have waited for your mother and me! Do you know how worried we were when you and Harry didn't follow us through? We thought something terrible had happened! We rushed back and searched the whole station for you! You made your mother sick with worry! And myself! Don't you _ever_ do something like that ever again, Ronald Bilius Weasley!" Mr. Weasley yelled. He couldn't help it; he was upset. He couldn't remember ever being as frightened as he was today; all sorts of horrible scenarios had played through his head. Then he had discovered that the boys took the car, and he was livid. Mr. Weasley had calmed down considerably now, but he was going to make sure Ron felt his displeasure.

Ron knew his father was angry when he used his full name—only his mother did that, and even she only used it rarely. He had really messed up this time, and he knew he deserved whatever was coming to him, but that didn't mean he still wouldn't try to talk his way out of it!

Mr. Weasley felt he had spoken enough and it was now time to get on with the punishment. So, without skipping a beat, he quickly undid Ron's trousers and lowered them to his knees. The boy's pants followed and Mr. Weasley tipped his son over his lap. Ron wiggled and let out a sob. He really didn't want to be spanked, but he knew there was absolutely no way out of it.

Mr. Weasley wasted no time and quickly began spanking. Ron cried out and squirmed, trying his best to escape his father's hardened hand. "Ouch! Ouch! OW!"

Mr. Weasley ignored Ron's cries and continued slapping his hand down, making sure to cover every inch of Ron's bottom.

"Ah! Ouch! Ouch! Ow!" Ron cried, bucking over his father's lap. No matter how many times he found himself in this position, Ron always seemed to forget just how much a spanking could hurt. He was doing everything he could to squirm away from the punishing hand, but his father was a skilled spanker and found his mark each time.

Ron's bottom was by now a rosy pink so Mr. Weasley moved his attention to the boy's sit spots and start of thighs. He peppered that area until it matched in color before pausing. Ron was sobbing by now, apologizing and promising to be good over and over. He would promise absolutely anything if Mr. Weasley would just stop spanking!

"I sincerely hope this is the last time we have to deal with this, Ronald. If I have to repeat this lesson a third time, you and I will be taking a trip out to the shed. Am I understood?" Mr. Weasley said sternly as he reached inside his robes and pulled out Mrs. Weasley's worn wooden hairbrush.

Ron let out a loud sob upon hearing his father's threat; he knew very well what a trip to the shed meant. He had never experienced it himself, but had heard stories from his older brothers Bill and Charlie, and of course the twins, of what happened when dad took you to the shed and Ron in no way wanted his bottom tanned with his father's belt.

Mr. Weasley tapped the hairbrush against Ron's bottom, waiting for the boy to answer. Ron winced at the light pats; even they hurt on his already sore bum. "Y-yes sir! I understand! I un-understand!" he choked out.

"Let's finish this up then," Mr. Weasley said, smacking the brush down hard in the center of Ronald's bottom.

"OWWW! N-no daddy, please!" Ron sobbed, his bottom throbbing in pain. "I'm so so-sorry!"

Mr. Weasley didn't respond and instead landed a further five smacks, making sure to cover Ron's entire bum with the brush. His heart ached but he kept spanking, knowing he would hurt more if Ron had seriously injured or killed himself with today's stunt.

Ron cried and kicked his legs out, but nothing helped ease the fire his father was igniting. He truly was so sorry for taking the car and worrying his parents. "Daddy! I'll—OW! OUCH!—n-never do it a-again! I'm sorry! I'll be—ouch! Ouch! OUCH!—g-g-good! I swear! Please daddy! OW!"

"You certainly won't do it ever again, Ronald!" Mr. Weasley said, punctuating every word with a hard swat. Mr. Weasley then stopped and surveyed Ronald's bottom. It was by now a very deep shade of red and his son was crying heavily. Deciding Ron had indeed learned his lesson, Mr. Weasley stowed the hairbrush back inside his robes and rubbed the boy's back.

"It's all over, son. All forgiven," Mr. Weasley said softly, helping the boy stand and righting his clothes. He then pulled his youngest boy onto his lap and wrapped his arms around him tightly.

"Shhh, that's a good boy. It's all over. All over," Mr. Weasley soothed, kissing Ron's sweaty forehead.

* * *

"How extraordinarily like your father you are, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape sneered, making his way over to a cabinet behind his desk.

Harry ground his teeth together and vowed not to rise to Snape's taunts. He could feel his blood starting to boil, just as it did every time Snape mentioned his father. It cooled considerably once he saw what was in his professor's hands. Harry watched as Snape walked menacingly towards him, holding a small wooden paddle in one hand and a glass container of what looked like paste in the other.

"He always thought he was better than others as well," said Snape as he moved a straight back chair out. Harry watched as the man hitched up his trousers and flared his robes out so they settled on either side of his legs, ensuring he would have a full range of movement for his task. Setting the paddle on the desk, he turned his attention to the small black-hair child in front of him. "To me, Potter," he said.

Harry took a deep breath before making his way to his least favorite teacher, the man who was about to blister his backside.

"Trousers down, Potter," Snape instructed, unscrewing the lid of the container and setting it next to the paddle.

"What's that?" Harry asked, trying to keep his anxiety out of his voice.

"A salve I created myself. Trousers, Potter," Snape sneered.

"What's it for?"

"If you don't get your trousers down around your ankles in three seconds, I will do it myself," Snape warned, his voice dropping an octave. It sent chills down Harry's spine.

Harry quickly undid his trousers and let them fall to his ankles. He looked uncertainly at Snape, waiting for the next direction. Snape yanked him none-too-gently across his lap before removing his boxers.

Professor Snape dipped his fingers into the container and scooped out a glob of salve. Harry gasped as the cold stuff hit his skin.

"This will protect your skin from any serious damage. Wouldn't want famous Potter's backside all black and blue now would we?" Professor Snape sneered. He wasn't about to tell Potter that the salve also makes the area more sensitive so the spanking hurts that much more. Potter would discover that for himself soon enough.

"Now, shall we begin?" Professor Snape asked, lifting the paddle. He swished it through the air thrice, and was pleased when Potter jumped. _Crack!_

Harry heard the sound of the paddle hitting him before he felt it. "OWW!" he cried out as soon as the pain registered. He was rewarded with another crack.

The pain was intense and Harry felt sure he was going to be bruised when it was all said and done. "Ouch! Ow!"

Snape set a steady pace, slapping the paddle down on Potter's cheeks three or four seconds apart, just enough time for the pain to grow before the next blow landed.

Harry refused to beg, but his resolve was quickly dissolving with each lick of the paddle. In no time, he was reduced to loud sobs.

"Learning our lesson Potter?" Snape yelled to be heard over the sound of Potter's howls.

"OW! Ye—ouch—yes s-s-sir! I'm s-s-sorry!" Harry bawled.

"And what lesson would that be?"

"AHH! OUCH! Not t-to—OW!—f-f-fly a c-car, s-sir!" Harry cried, tears and snot running down his face.

"Wrong," said Snape as he tipped Potter forward. He aimed his next swats at the boy's sit spots. Potter howled.

"You—need—to—think—situations—through—boy!" Snape scolded, punctuating each word with a hard lick from the paddle.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! P-please, I'm s-sorry! OW!" Harry cried. He bottom throbbed and he wasn't sure if he could take much more.

Snape landed a further half dozen swats before setting the paddle down and standing Potter up. The boy was a mess. Snape was not about to comfort the Potter brat. "Right your clothes and then go stand in the corner until you've calm down," he said.

Harry winced as he pulled his boxers and trousers up. Slowly, carefully, he made his way over to the nearest corner and placed his nose in it.

Professor Snape watched as Potter did as he was told and then went about returning things to their proper place. He set the paddle and salve back in the cabinet for future use and returned the chair to its nook in the corner besides his desk.

Harry willed himself to calm down. Slowly, his sobs turned into hiccups and his breathing returned to normal. The pain in his bottom was still intense, but it didn't throb like it did before. Now it just ached. He couldn't wait to get back to his dormitory so he could inspect the damages.

Snape gave Potter another five minutes in the corner before dismissing the boy. He watched with a smirk as Potter walked stiffly from the room.

* * *

Hermione made her way to Gryffindor Tower by herself. She was worried about her two best friends. She couldn't find them on the train or anywhere at the Gryffindor table during the start of term feast. And a horrible rumor that they had been expelled was circulating quickly through the school.

So it was a relief when she rounded the corner and saw two shamed-faced boys staring sheepishly at her. "_There _you two are! What happened?"

Ron quickly explained. "Now tell us the password, Hermione. I want to go to bed!"

"What were you two thinking? A flying _car_?" Hermione scolded.

"Hermione, please. Harry and I have already been yelled at by Snape, lectured by McGonagall and Dumbledore, _and_ had our arses walloped. We don't need you lecturing us too," Ron said, rubbing his backside.

"McGonagall use her ruler on you then?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrow. The boys gave each other a pained look and winced.

"No. Dad Flooed here and used Mum's hairbrush on me," Ron said sheepishly, his ears turning pink.

"Well serves you right, Ronald!" Hermione said, causing Ron to bluster. "And what about you Harry?"

"Snape…with a paddle," Harry mumbled, biting the inside of his cheek. He lowered his gaze for a moment before meeting Hermione's. He noticed her eyes had lost the black ice and turned their normal warm brown again. She gave him a small sympathetic smile.

"Well…the password's 'wattlebird'," Hermione said, crawling through the portrait hole before them. Ron shook his head and stared after her.

"I hope she gets it soon. Serve _her_ right," Ron said, making a face at the girl's retreating back. Harry couldn't help but laugh as they clambered in behind her.

"Chances are one or both of us would be getting it with her. You know she only gets in trouble with us," Harry countered.

"You're probably right mate," Ron said, sighing. "I hope it's with you then!"

Harry didn't have time for a retort because as soon as the portrait hole closed behind them, the room erupted in applause and the two boys were surrounded by all of Gryffindor.


	5. Problems With Polyjuice

_Hello readers! New update! I really hope you like it. I took a bit of artistic liberty with this chapter. In the book, it takes Hermione weeks to de-fur after the polyjuice incident. And she never seemed to get into any trouble. I find it a bit hard to believe that Snape wouldn't have realized what had happened. For my story's purposes, I sped up the healing process. _

_And, as always, I do not own any of the characters. I just like to borrow them. _

_Enjoy,_

_DARecruit_

* * *

**Problems With Polyjuice**

Severus Snape was used to being summoned to the hospital wing to help Madam Pomfrey identify injuries or side effects caused by any number of potions brewed incorrectly by dunces and imbeciles, but he was _very_ surprised to walk in and find a girl covered in thick black fur with the eyes and ears of a cat. And not just any girl. _Hermione Granger_.

And standing in the corner, behind both Madam Pomfrey and Granger on the hospital bed were Potter and Weasley, looking anxious. "How very interesting. Our trio, in trouble again, aren't we?" Professor Snape sneered.

"N-no, Professor Snape. This is my fault. The boys had nothing to do with it," Hermione squeaked, knowing that if the boys got into any more serious trouble, they would be expelled for sure. Regardless of the consequences, she would do her best to protect them.

"I find that very unlikely, Miss Granger. The three of you are thick as thieves. And you are the most behaved of the lot. How is it that Potter and Weasley were not apart of this scheme?" Professor Snape quipped.

"Please, sir, I…I wanted to try out this p-potion to—"

"Polyjuice, is it not?" Professor Snape inquired, cutting the girl off. He already knew the answer, of course, but he wanted to hear it from her.

"Y-yes sir," Hermione stammered, looking down at her hands.

"And you are aware that that potion is N.E.W.T. level and brewing said potion in any other year besides seventh is against school rules?" Professor Snape asked, noticing the girl squirm nervously.

"Yes sir."

"Then what, may I ask, possessed you to brew this potion? What on earth were you trying to prove?" Professor Snape asked sternly, his voice cold as ice.

"I-I read about it and I…I just wanted to see if I c-could do it, sir," Hermione mumbled, feeling tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. Snape scared her tremendously, and he was beginning to make her feel very guilty.

"This seems to be a reoccurring habit of yours, Miss Granger, does it not? I seem to recall you reading about trolls last year and getting the notion in your head that you could take on one of them. Now you're brewing potions far beyond your schooling. This is a serious problem, young lady, one that I plan on correcting just as soon as we deal with this furry problem of yours," Snape said, his voice ominously low.

Hermione began crying, and Madam Pomfrey put a comforting arm around her. "There, there dear, we'll get you fixed up. Professor Snape has your best interests in mind, child," she soothed.

Professor Snape turned to the two boys cowering in the corner. "Detention for the pair of you, for allowing Miss Granger to brew this potion as dangerous as it is. And ten points from Gryffindor. Return to your dormitory."

"Sir, couldn't we stay, to make sure Hermione is ok?" Harry asked, stepping forward.

"Miss Granger will be perfectly fine, Mr. Potter. Madam Pomfrey and I do not need the two of you underfoot while we de-fur your classmate. Now return to your dormitory before I decide to add another detention!" Snape said. The boys hurried off, giving Hermione an anxious glance as they passed.

* * *

After Professor Snape successfully transformed Hermione Granger back into a furless little girl, he made his way Minerva McGonagall's office, but not before giving Granger orders to report to him as soon as she was released from the hospital wing in the morning.

Professor Snape knocked on Professor McGonagall's door and entered a moment after.

"Severus, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Minerva asked, looking up from a stack of papers she was grading.

"One of your cubs, Minerva. Hermione Granger," Severus replied, taking a seat near the fire.

"Granger? What on earth did she do?" Minerva asked, setting the rolls of essays aside and giving her full attention to the younger professor. She listened intently as he went over the events of the last hour.

"I will deal with her, Severus. She won't do it again," Minerva said, returning her attention to the essays.

"I believe the girl needs a firmer hand in this matter, Minerva. I've already instructed her to report to me in the morning."

"Really, Severus. I'm her Head, I'll deal with her appropriately."

"Just how did you deal with her with the troll, if I may ask? Clearly the message did not sink in, if she's doing the same thing a year later. And I do not believe for a minute that those boys were not involved," Severus said, grinding his teeth.

"You have no proof to say otherwise, Severus. And you gave them detention, correct? I think that's enough for now. As for Miss Granger…I spanked her for the troll."

"How?" Severus pressed.

"The normal way, Severus, how else? I believe I gave her a dozen or so swats. She was very contrite. I did not think I needed to be overly firm with her. She already knew she had done wrong," Minerva said exasperated.

"That was hardly an appropriate punishment for the situation! No wonder she's still being foolhardy. The girl is far too clever for her own good! Don't you see? If she isn't reigned in, who knows what she will think up next? And with those dunderheads Potter and Weasley—"

"Alright Severus…alright. You're right. Hermione could have been seriously injured. Perhaps I did not handle last year as well as I should. I sincerely thought she had learned her lesson…I let you deal with Potter at the start of term and you did not kill him. You may handle Miss Granger as well," Minerva said, rubbing her temples.

"Thank you, Minerva," Severus said, rising from his seat. He was halfway to the door when Minerva stopped him.

"Severus? Don't be too hard on her. She's only a little girl."

"She is. A little girl that needs to be taught some boundaries if we hope to see her grow up into an amazing young woman. Especially if that little girl is determined to pal around with Potter and Weasley of all people!" Severus said, flaring his robes out. "I only wish to teach her a lesson, not scar her for life. Instill a little fear perhaps, and a very sore backside. Miss Granger will be just fine…I promise you that."

"You really do have a soft gooey inside, don't you Severus?" Minerva asked, smiling at the younger man impishly. Snape huffed and left without another word. As soon as the door shut, Minerva McGonagall burst into laughter.

* * *

Hermione Granger shook like a leaf as she waited outside Professor Snape's door the next morning. She tossed and turned all night, imaging how much a spanking from Professor Snape was going to hurt. Was he going to use the paddle on her like he had Harry? It was bad enough getting spanked by Professor McGonagall last year, but at least she was only sore for a few hours afterwards. Harry had been sore for a full three days after his paddling for the flying car incident. Hermione really didn't want to go through that as well.

"Do come in, Miss Granger," Professor Snape said, making the young girl jump. He smirked and moved aside to let the child slide passed him into the room.

"G-good morning, sir," Hermione squeaked, mindful of her manners.

"It is for one of us, I'm sure," Snape said, shutting the door with a loud click.

Hermione watched anxiously as her professor made his way to a straight-backed chair in front of his desk and took a seat. She couldn't help but notice a small container of some kind of salve on his desk next to him, but there was no paddle. Instead lay a polished dark wooden hairbrush, the head of which was roughly five inches long and three centimeters thick.

"Come here, Miss Granger," Professor Snape ordered, giving the girl a stern look. Hermione gulped and made her way over to her professor's side.

Professor Snape wasted no time and positioned the girl over his lap, raising her skirt as he did so. Hermione wiggled as she felt the man pull her knickers down to her knees. The cool air made her shiver.

She gasped as she felt the cold salve touch her skin, but she tried to stay as still as possible as Professor Snape rubbed the stuff in.

"The salve will prevent bruising. I do not wish to cause lasting harm, Miss Granger. I do want to teach you a firm lesson, however. Now, why are you receiving this spanking?" Professor Snape said, doling out six crisp swats without any warning.

"Ow! Ouch! I—OW!—I b-brewed Polyjuice, s-sir! Ow!" Hermione yelped, her bottom already stinging.

Professor Snape continued to swat the girl's bottom with his hand, making sure to cover every inch of skin. He always spanked every child differently, based on their needs. When he had spanked Potter, he had to be quite firm and give the boy a shock in order to get through to him because the boy is so impulsive. Granger, on the other hand, is extremely logical, but she needs to be given time to adjust to the punishment and sort through her feelings.

"Ah! Ouch! S-sir, please! Ow!" Hermione cried, kicking her legs out in an effort to relieve the growing sting.

"There is a reason Polyjuice is reserved for seventh year students, Miss Granger! It is extremely dangerous! Any number of things could go wrong. You are lucky I was able to reverse the effects of your foolhardy stunt! You would have been walking around as a cat girl for the rest of your life had I been unable to!" Professor Snape scolded, wrapping an arm around the girl's waist and focusing on her sit spots. Hermione's cries grew louder.

"S-s-sorry!" Hermione bawled, wishing the spanking would end already. She knew she still had the hairbrush coming and did not know how she would be able to handle it. She was already so sore!

Severus paused and surveyed the damage. Hermione's bottom was a bright pink and he was sure it hurt very much. He wanted to get it over with as much as the girl did. He may be the bat of the dungeon, but he really did not enjoy hearing children cry.

"I'm sure you are sorry, Miss Granger. We are almost done," Severus said, picking up the brush and patting it on the girl's sit spots. She squirmed uncomfortably and cried more.

Not wanting to prolong it any further, Severus began landing crisp swats with the brush.

_Thwhack! Thwhack! Thwhack!_

"Nooo, noo! OWW! Pl-please s-s-sir! OUCH!" Hermione cried, squirming hard now. The brush burned her bottom, she felt like she had sat on a hot stove! "B-b-burns!"

"Yes it does, Miss Granger. It will help you remember not to be foolhardy in the future! And not to act upon things you read in books!" Severus scolded, punctuating the last part with extra hard swats.

"OWW! I-I'm s-sorry s-sir! I'll be g-g-good! I swear! I—OW! OUCH!—_swear_!" Hermione bawled, going limp over her professor's lap.

Severus landed two more spanks to each sit spot and then carefully replaced the girl's knickers to their proper place. Unlike Potter, he let Hermione lay still across his lap for a moment to calm down. The poor girl just kept sobbing, not realizing the punishment had ended, so Severus awkwardly patted her back. "There, there, Miss Granger. Calm down," he said.

Hermione was aware that her professor was now patting her back. He was the last person on earth who she would have thought would do this after spanking a child. It was odd, coming from Snape. She began wiggling to get down, and Snape quickly set her on her feet.

"I do hope you have learned your lesson this time, Miss Granger. I will not hesitate to do this again if I must," Snape said, returning to his normal nastiness.

Hermione looked up at her professor through teary eyes. "Y-yes s-s-sir. I p-promise," she stammered through her tears.

"Very well, Miss Granger. Go stand in the corner and calm down. I will not have you leave my office in this state. Others will think I tortured you," Snape said, pointing to the nearest corner.

Ten minutes later, Hermione was making her way back to Gryffindor Tower. She was exhausted and just wanted to go lay in her bed. Luckily, it was still early enough in the morning that she didn't encounter anyone else on her way and was able to slip into the portrait hole without any issues.

"Hermione!" Harry and Ron shouted as soon as they saw their friend enter the common room.

Hermione smiled sheepishly at her friends and noticed they had prepared one of the armchairs with plush pillows for her to sit on. She rubbed at her eyes as she felt a few tears trickle down her face at the gesture.

"It was really brave, what you did, Hermione," Ron said as Hermione eased herself down on the pillows. She still winced as her bottom made contact, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

"We're sorry you had to take the fall for us again. So today, we're going to do anything you want! _Whatever_ you want!" Harry added.

"Can we read _Hogwarts, A History_ together?" Hermione asked, and laughed when the boys groaned. "You did say _anything_ I wanted."

The three friends spent the rest of the day playing Exploding Snap and relaxing by the fire. Hermione was so happy, she had almost forgotten she had a sore bum. _Almost_.


End file.
